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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920692">For Life!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Budding Romance, Chronic Pain, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Petra being heavily inked, Petra cramping Hubert's spooky style, Rare pair hell is a terrible place, Rarepair, Short &amp; Sweet, Short One Shot, Tattoos, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, as a treat, headcanons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:03:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Petra wants to give Hubert a tattoo. Hubert doesn't bother asking why until after she gives it to him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Petra Macneary/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Life!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hubert’s hands were black as the night sky above him. Perhaps someone whimsical enough could compare the hardened boils to stars, and the cracks in torrid skin to constellations connecting them. If you asked him, Hubert would tell you that his hands reminded him of a swamp. They were foul and vile, and he much preferred his own analogy to any sickeningly sweet poem a minstrel might spin. The fact that his hands were marred while the rest of his body remained untouched only demonstrated how proficient he was in dark magic as opposed to others. Hubert understood the effects dark magic could have on a human body; his own father abused its power until his body was rendered completely paralzyed, forcing him to spend his final few years bound to a wheelchair and dependent on herbs for the pain. Even then, Hubert still could not find any gratification in that wretch’s fate, as the way his body burnt and twisted into a macabre skeleton was a mere slap on the wrist compared to what he had put Lady Edelgard through. Had Hubert the time and resources, he would have done something far, far worse than any forbidden magic <em>ever</em> could have.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, Hubert still expected the pain. He was even accustomed to it, able to keep himself still and smiling nonchalantly while his hands throbbed. The dark magic shifted underneath his skin, crawling against the surface, desperate to burst forth and expel itself in the form of an incantation. There was almost something adorable about a non-sentient being like a spell-craft trying to smother the one who wielded it. Hubert was the one in control, all his choices were his alone, and anything could and would bend to his will; except, of course, the pain. Though tonight he was far less concerned with the pounding in his fingertips and more so fascinated with the buzzing at his wrist.</p>
<p>“Please, accept my apology.”</p>
<p>Petra sat before him, her face illuminated by the red glow of the campfire. Their mission had been going as planned, a journey timed perfectly in order to reach Derdriu by dusk of tomorrow. If there was anything that Hubert could truly and deeply admire about the young princess was her competence; she was dependable, always and endlessly, and Hubert could find solace in knowing that he actually did not need to do everything around here.</p>
<p>“I am missing good tools and ink. When we return, I will make it better.”</p>
<p>Hubert’s gaze returned to the inside of his left wrist, where Petra had been chipping at like an ore slab for the past hour. In his skin she had pressed a permanent pattern with a carbon stone and a small, bronze, chisel-like object. The tattoo was a deep purple in it’s hue, shaped like two crescent moons intersecting one another with a small sphere in the center. There was a larger ring circling the outside, and dancing around the circle was a series of small specks, ones which vaguely reminded Hubert of the thousands of puncture wounds he had dealt out over his years of service.</p>
<p>“It’s not unlike yours.” He mused, turning his hand to examine the tattoo at various angles.</p>
<p>“There is similarity.” Petra’s eyes flickered up to Hubert for a moment, all while she busied herself with placing her tools back into colorful satchel.</p>
<p>“And it’s meaning?”</p>
<p>The princess quickly focused back on the vassal, lighting up at the chance to talk about the traditions of her homeland. She set the satchel aside, straightening her back, hands folded in her lap as a reminiscent smile formed over her face.</p>
<p>“They show we are offering ourselves to the spirits.” She explained, placing a hand over her heart. “We are giving our skin, and they give back to us. I am an example, I have given my body to the flame spirit.”</p>
<p>Petra’s hand slid away from her chest to trace along the magenta tattoo just underneath her eye.</p>
<p>“I ask her for protection.”</p>
<p>She twisted her body around, pulling her full and vivacious hair back to showcase the intricate ink that fanned all throughout her back.</p>
<p>“For victory...”</p>
<p>Petra turned once again, pressing her knuckles against the dirt, emphasizing the Mauvish-crimson patterns webbing up and down her lean, muscular arms.</p>
<p>“For strength...”</p>
<p>Petra looked so positively whimsical as she spoke, that there was no need for a campfire with how brightly she was glowing. After ensuring the gangly man got a good look, she scooted herself forward.</p>
<p>“But this mark is belonging to a different spirit.” Both hands carefully drew themselves onto Hubert’s, caressing the gnarled flesh. She hadn’t actually taken ahold of him, but Hubert still felt expected to say in place, to which he obeyed.</p>
<p>“She is the strongest of them all.”</p>
<p>Prolonged eye-contact was the easiest way to intimidate someone; pair that with an invasion of personal space, and a cool yet unrelenting smile, even the most courageous of fighters would feel like prey. Hubert couldn’t help but recognize the irony of the situation as he inhaled involuntarily at the tender touch, curling his digits into a fist and focusing his gaze elsewhere. Petra proved yet again to be just as ruthless as he was, slipping her fingers under Hubert’s and peeling them open. The vassal had hardened himself to a great array of potential torture should he ever find himself captured, yet the princess’ palms dancing to bare his still-tender wrist had him fighting the urge to squirm.</p>
<p>“Her power is over everything-” Petra’s voice carried a certain wonder in her voice as she relayed her legends, delicately brushing the violet ink. “-and everything flows around her. Everything comes back to her. She is the spirit for-”</p>
<p>“-For death?” Hubert interjected with an amused and crooked sneer, approving of such a ghastly connection.</p>
<p>Petra tilted her chin up, revealing a gleaming smile.</p>
<p>“For life!”</p>
<p>There was one other thing about princess Petra Macneary that impressed Hubert; she could surprise him. Here she was, a brilliant and radiant woman equating Hubert von Vestra, the bloodied hand of the emperor, the sinister shadow out of the corner of your eye, the personal boogeyman to Farghus, Leicester, and Adrestria alike to that of a beautiful deity who nurtured the circle of life. He could do nothing but stare blankly at her while she held his skeletal hand as though it were some precious thing. Hubert could only wonder what Petra’s hands felt like, as his nerves had long since been shot and rendered useless. In spite of how long and elegant they were, he imagined they would be worn and calloused, a testament to her dedication and skill as a warrior. They would relate to each other that way, scarred and forever changed by what they fought for, and stronger because of it. Petra fluttered her eyelashes at Hubert’s dumbfounded expression, her face wrinkling as her smile transitioned from jovality to warmth. One hand intertwined with Hubert’s, while the other reached forward to caress the rigid outlines of his thin face.</p>
<p>“You must keep living…” She commanded him. Even with her sweet, soothing tone, Hubert still read this as an irrefutable demand. “</p>
<p>"So I will keep cherishing you.”</p>
<p>With that, she dipped down and placed a kiss upon his hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Sleep was a simple pleasure to Hubert rather than a necessity… he could rest once the church was decimated. He circled the makeshift camp like a great bat, thumbing through the worn pages of an ancient tome; His brow furrowed, glaring at the sheets until he found just what he had been looking for, all the while the Brigidian princess slept peacefully. He ceased his pacing, turning to the dying campfire, barely holding on with stubborn embers. With a quick snap of his fingers, they were snuffed out with thick, ashen smoke, and he was left in pure darkness. Under the privacy of the blanket of shadow, Hubert partook in what he had not done since he was a small, fearful child. He began to pray.</p>
<p><em>“I don’t believe in you.”</em> He contradicted himself immediately, boldly refusing to bow as he addressed the Goddess callously.<em> “I don’t believe in spirits.”</em> He added, just for good measure.</p>
<p>He leaned his head back to face the sky, eyes closed as if trying to feel something otherworldly, just to let someone out there know he was there too.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not in a kingdom above or eternal flames below. Nothing so fantastical.” </em>
</p>
<p>Absently, clutched at his tattoo, rubbing his sore wrist.<em> “I can only place my faith in humanity. With our cause. With-” </em></p>
<p>He stopped, hearing a quiet murmur just behind him. He turned, looking over Petra as she curled in closer on herself, using her arms as a pillow. Her lips were parted slightly, wheezing in and out noiselessly. Clenching his hands, Hubert stepped forward, kneeling before her and opening his spellbook once more.</p>
<p>
  <em>“... Say you do exist. That you really are there.” </em>
</p>
<p>Hubert’s left hand began to crackle with dark magic while he repeated the motions on the page to summon his spell. The magic sang at it’s release, pumping through his veins and whispering echoes of limitless power in his mind. He pushed his hand forward, his fingers meeting the side of Petra’s face as he led her to lay upon her back, slowly and gently as to not rouse her rest. He began to recite the charm, whispering lowly and beginning to trace a symbol. Beams of violet, ivory, and black began to form at his fingertips, curling around and forming to make a pattern not unlike a shield; the hum of the spell was so loud it made everything silent, and yet Hubert still chanted. With one final effort, he forced the emblem downwards, steadily until it hovered just about Petra’s chest, where her fist was lazily curled. He pressed his over hers, and the symbol moved the rest of the way on it’s own, fusing and disappearing into her body.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Then hear me now.” </em>
</p>
<p>The charm was complete. He intended to repeat this spell on all of the strike force, but he had wanted to start with her; one selfish act as a mortal man, he chose to start with her. As long as he existed no harm would fall upon Petra, and just as he had promised wordlessly, he would see that he would stay by her side, an invisible shield in the thundering war-path they had chosen. Though a taboo spell meant to make one indestructible in battle did little against the chill of night. Hubert unclasped his cape from his shoulders, and draped the billowing fabric over Petra from the shoulders down. The corners of her lips twitched into a smile, as a vision of a happy dream overtook her mind. That pure smile was even more difficult to bear than her glittering eyes, which had always bore through him without any fear. He turned away, warmth thawing the heart he had worked so hard to freeze.</p>
<p>
  <em>“You shall not take her from me.”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really fell in love with this ship after I reached their A support; their dynamic is so odd and different and yet it really made a lot of sense to me. I just had to write something for them! </p>
<p>Thanks for reading! Stay safe!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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